


Ways We've Changed

by Romiress



Series: More to Being a Father than Having a Kid [18]
Category: Batman: Arkham (Video Games), Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics)
Genre: Dealing with Slade's Fucky Childhood, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:33:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27294976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romiress/pseuds/Romiress
Summary: When Slade's mother shows up at the manor to invite Slade to his father's funeral, it's a time for reflection.--A short, experimental look at Will's really screwed up history. Set shortly after Darker Side of You.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne/Slade Wilson/Slade Wilson
Series: More to Being a Father than Having a Kid [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1386880
Comments: 20
Kudos: 85





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This probably won't hit ten chapters, but I wanted to get this muse out before going back to my existing projects.
> 
> Set a few months after the last one, but _before_ the trio go public. They're working on it.

There's a car by the gate when Will returns from shopping. It's not exactly uncommon—people stop by all the time, after all—but most people are registered into the manor's security system and don't actually have to deal with the intercom the way the person in front of him is. She's an older woman, and she looks a bit lost, and she doesn't seem like she's quite able to figure out what button to press, even if it isn't that complicated.

Will sighs and gets out of the car.

She startles at the sight of him, eyes going wide, but Will's used to that too. People stare at him a _lot,_ the same way they stare at any member of the family. They're oddities, not quite celebrities but something close to that. Something in the same _range._

"Slade?"

It says a lot about how far he's come that it takes Will's brain a second to register that the answer is _technically, yes,_ even as he brushes it off.

"Will." He doesn't get how anyone could mix them up, considering all the physical differences between them, but the woman does anyway. "Did you need something, ma'am?"

As timid as she was at first, she seems to find her courage then, sitting up a bit straighter in the seat.

"I need to speak to Slade."

"Lots of people do." Will doubts she's with the news—she's well past retirement age without question—but that doesn't mean he's going to just let her in. "Going to need a bit more before I let you into the manor."

"I don't need into the manor, I just need to see him for a little bit, and then I'll be on my way. But I've driven all the way out here from Oklahoma and I'm not going back until I talk to him."

Oklahoma? Why would—

Oh _crap._

"Who did you say you were again?"

"I didn't, because you didn't ask, and you don't seem to recognize me so I don't think it matters much anyway. If you call him and tell him to come out, I can talk to him and then I'll be on my way."

As much as Slade's been estranged from his family for decades, it's hard not to see his mannerisms in his mother.

Or maybe it's vice versa, since it's _her_ mannerisms in _him._

"I'll call him," he says, taking a few steps back to get some space before fishing out his phone. He dials Slade, listening to see if he can hear it—which would mean Slade's outside—but doesn't hear a thing before Slade picks up.

"What'd you forget?"

Just like Slade to assume Will's calling because he _forgot something at the house,_ and Will simply rolls his eyes at that.

 _"I_ didn't forget a damn thing. Shopping's already done and I've got frozen shit melting in the back. _You_ forgot to mention your mother was coming."

The silence on the line is so immense Slade's sure he could hear a pin drop three rooms over.

"...Does Bruce know?"

"Not _yet,_ but I can't imagine he'll fail to notice someone by the gate this long. You know he's going to invite her in." There's movement in his peripheral, and Will turns to spot Jason coming out of the house, heading down towards the gate to investigate. "Ah, there's Jason. You're boned."

He hangs up midway through Slade's curse and heads up to the gate, letting it scan his hand to let them both in. He waves for her to go in, and Jason stands by, looking baffled as the two cars come in.

"Guests?" He calls as Will gets out of the car.

"Guest."

Slade appears in the entranceway, racing down the path towards the cars. With anyone else, Will would be sure he was racing to embrace the parent he hasn't seen in years. With Slade, it's far more likely he's racing to get her out of sight before Bruce spots her. Bruce, Will is sure, will invite her in. He'll have a lot of questions.

Too late. Slade hasn't even reached the cars when Bruce appears in the doorway, followed shortly after by Damian and Thad peeking their heads out.

"You're doomed," Will says to Slade right as Slade passes him, and Slade shoots him a glare, finally reaching his mother.

It's not the happy, huggy reunion anyone else would have gotten. It's terse, to the point, and Will can hear every word.

"I just wanted to let you know that your father had passed away. I don't know if you'd have any interest attending the funeral, but I didn't want you to find out after the fact and feel bad about missing out."

"Back in Oklahoma? I'm not sure what my schedule—"

"Slade!" Bruce calls, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looks between the very old woman and Slade. "Who's this?"

Watching Slade's like watching a deer caught in the headlights as he mentally works his way through every possible answer to that question. Lying, for once, seems genuinely on the table, if only to escape having to deal with Bruce's potential reaction to his _mother-in-law._ In the end, though, Slade makes a different choice entirely.

"This is my mother. She just stopped by to let me know my father had passed—"

Bruce makes a strained noise of distress. Slade very clearly has to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

"And invite Slade to the funeral. I didn't want him finding out after the fact and wondering why he wasn't invited," Slade's mother finishes.

Will doesn't envy Slade _at all._ He obviously would like to just decline and get on with his life, but they all know there's absolutely zero chance of that happening.

"A funeral?" Bruce says, turning to stare pointedly at Slade. "When?"

"Next week, on Friday. I understand if you can't make it—"

"We'll have to talk about it," Slade announces before Bruce can outright agree. He opens his mouth to say something else, and then apparently thinks better of it, saying something else instead. "Are you going to be alright to drive back on your own?"

"I'll be just fine. I've spent every year since we retired driving around the country, Slade. I can manage to drive myself just fine."

She digs into her pocket, produces an invitation, and hands it over without any sort of further preamble.

"It was nice to meet you all otherwise." It's mostly directed at Bruce, and then she's right back to her car, apparently done with the hard work of having a conversation.

How very _like Slade_ of her.


	2. Chapter 2

Will makes it all the way to Oklahoma before he started to wonder if there's an ulterior motive for bringing him along.

Really, he should have figured it out earlier. He should have realized that his presence at all was suspect. Slade and Bruce, sure, they're _family._ Legally, he has no solid connection to them. They haven't yet come out as a trio, which means he'd only be there because he's also _a_ Slade Wilson, which is... suspect.

And yet he's been invited along anyway.

By the time he clues in, he spends the rest of the day hoping Bruce just wanted an excuse to catch him in a suit, but there's no such luck. Bruce doesn't seem terribly interested as they drive from their hotel down to the funeral. It's a small thing, no more than ten people, and for all Bruce's concerns, Slade takes to it like a duck to water.

"Slade?" One man near the entrance says. He looks about Slade's age, or maybe a few years older, but it's hard to tell with Slade's enhancements keeping him healthier than he should be. "Jesus, didn't realize you'd even been invited." He doesn't seem terribly pleased by Slade's presence. If anything, he looks nervous, but Slade simply brushes it off.

"Ma came out and invited me. Had to at least make an appearance, Wade."

"Hold on," Bruce splutters, leaning around Slade's bulk to squint at the man. "Wade, wasn't that...?"

"The half-brother," Will finishes. "Which I didn't have."

Wade's eyes are bouncing between Slade and Will, sizing them up, and Slade huffs.

"Will. The me from another dimension. Who else is here?"

"Your mom's talking to the staff. A few old folks. Not anyone else really left. I should go check in, though."

His exit is overly hasty, and even Bruce is silent for a moment.

Will's the one who breaks the silence, his voice quiet as he can manage.

"He was afraid."

"Agreed," Slade says. "Keep an eye on him?"

"Have fun at the funeral."

Bruce frowns, but doesn't protest as Will slips off to find Wade. He doesn't know the man, but he _does_ know what it looks like when someone's panicking, and Wade LaFarge was definitely panicking.

He's also, without question, making a run for it.

Will keeps his distance, trailing the man out of the building to the truck he's clearly about to make a getaway in. His behavior is that of a man caught with his hand in the cookie jar, frantic and a step beyond suspicious. If he'd kept his cool, he'd have gotten away with whatever it is he did. Now, however, he's painted a target on his back so large it's impossible to miss.

Will doesn't have a separate car to go after him, so he simply pulls the passenger door open and goes to climb in.

Wade, apparently having zero brain cells, attempts to shoot him with a handgun, and Will simply _reacts._ He knocks the gun up, the bullet missing his ear by a hair and going through the window behind him, and then disarms Wade with surprising ease.

He's an older man, past retirement, and not in very good shape. He's also so terrified he's _shaking,_ his hands actually trembling in place as he reels backwards. It's not a fair fight. It's not even a _fight._ Will could beat him if he so much as blinks too hard, and Wade knows it.

What Wade _doesn't_ know is what _Will_ knows. All he knows is that Will's another version of Slade, and Will has every intention of taking advantage of that fact as he grabs Wade's wrists, squeezing hard.

"You can't imagine how surprised I was to see you there, _Wade._ Slade didn't have a single fucking idea, but he caught on with how quickly you bolted."

Wade whimpers. His fear is palpable, and Will squeezes his hands hard enough to bruise as he leans in. Wade's obviously done something he's afraid of Slade finding out about, but it's hard for Will to imagine what it might be. He doubts Slade has any idea either, but he has every intention of finding out.

So he takes a stab in the dark, going almost entirely based on how goddamn _terrified_ Wade is of Slade... and of him.

"See, what _I_ don't get is why you're still alive. Makes me think Slade doesn't know."

He can tell he's right immediately, just from Wade's reaction. There's _tears_ in the man's eyes, and Will would feel pity for the man if he wasn't so sure he'd done something terrible. Did he kill Slade's dad or something?

"Oh fuck," Wade whines, "please don't tell him. Fuck, it was— I'm a changed man. I wouldn't do it anymore. I've turned my life around, I've got a wife and kids, I wouldn't—"

Something a long time ago then. When they were kids, maybe.

"We're going to finish up the funeral, Wade. Then you're going to get down on your knees, confess to Slade, and _he_ can decide what to do with you."

"Please— He'll fucking kill me—"

"That's _his_ choice, isn't it?" Will makes a point of ensuring that Wade's as afraid of him as it's possible to be. "Let me level with you, Wade, I didn't give _my_ Wade that much choice. Who knows? Maybe Slade will let you live. He _is_ supposed to be reformed."

"Please, I've got a _family,"_ Wade says, tears in his eyes, like that's some sort of magic bullet that should make Will just automatically forgive him for whatever the fuck it is he did.

"I'm sure you've seen Slade mad before—now imagine what happens if you sneak off and I have to tell him it in _my_ words."

That shuts Wade up.

Will texts Slade the information, and then kicks back in the passenger seat with Wade sniveling in the driver's seat. He's expecting the man to try something—probably something stupid—but he doesn't, keeping mostly to himself. As the minutes drag on, Will accepts they're not going to be able to do whatever it is they're doing isn't going to happen in the church parking lot.

"You're going to start the car, head south about four blocks, and then pull into the parking lot on the right," Will instructs. "I'd rather not have anyone else sticking their nose into this, and I'm sure you don't want any interruptions either, right?"

The parking lots just a parking lot, a location that's a bit less used. Wade whimpers, but to Will's surprise he doesn't try anything stupid on the ride over, even when Will texts Slade their new location. He's either too afraid of Will to try anything, or smart enough to realize it isn't going to work anyway.

Whether smart or cowardly makes no difference to Will. He's still trying to figure out what it is Wade's done, but asking any questions will tip his hand and let Wade know that he was bullshitting. All he can do is bluff, enduring Wade's quiet noises of fear.

The hour it takes before Slade and Bruce join him is a step short of excruciating. They're parked near the back of the lot, under some trees for shade, and Will lets out a sigh of relief when the other car pulls in, parking just in front of Wade's to make sure he doesn't take off.

"Out," Will instructs. "Now."

"Please—" Wade tries one more time, but Will's glare is enough to shut him up, and after a moment he slips out of the driver's seat, closing the door behind himself. He's wringing his hands, his fear palpable, and Bruce looks uncomfortable from the moment he gets out, but Slade's expression is stone.

Will can't decide if Slade has suspicions, or if he just wants Wade to _think_ he does. It doesn't matter either way: things are already in motion. They'll play out the same way no matter what anyone else says and does.

Really, it's that feeling that should have warned him: the sensation that they're on a train that's out of control, with no way to stop it in time to avert a crash.

"Go on," Will says. "Tell Slade what you did."

A part of him feels like Wade should be on his knees in front of Slade, but he's not going to force him down. Things are tense enough as is, even as Will's brain fills in all the details for how things _should_ be. Like the whole thing should be taking place at night, deep in the woods, with only the light of the car headlights to see by.

"Please—"

"Now Wade, you don't want to know what I did to _my_ world's Wade, do you? So I'd get on with it and throw it yourself at Slade's mercy before _I_ get to decide things."

Wade looks away from him, and Bruce is forced to hide his confused—and upset—look. He's distressed by whatever is happening, and Will can't blame him. How long has it been since he saw Will acting as _Deathstroke?_

There's going to be a reckoning over it once it's all done, and yet Will can't feel bad about it. Deathstroke feels like an old, well-worn jacket he's slipping on, and it's obvious Bruce is bothered by how easily he's managed to do just that.

Maybe it's different for Slade, but the nature of their retirements are night and day.

Wade whimpers, refusing to meet Slade's eyes, and then says it.

"I hired Jackal."

Even Will can't control himself to that degree. He clenches his jaw hard enough he swears his hears his teeth crack, his hands balling into fists.

 _Jackal._ Bill Walsh. The man who kidnapped Joey. The man who, in this universe, _killed_ Joey.

Whether or not Bruce knows the name, he can recognize the reaction, and he steps in front of Slade, stopping Slade a half-step closer to Wade.

"Slade." His voice is enough to derail Slade's train of thought, but not enough to temper his anger. The rage is _radiating_ off him, practically a physical thing by that point.

"He wasn't supposed to hurt him." Wade's voice is going a mile a minute, speeding through the words as fast as he can. Like his life depends on it, because it probably does. "He was just supposed to take him, and then Addie would find out you were Deathstroke and leave you. That was all it was, I swear. Joey wasn't supposed to get hurt. When he did I— I panicked. I realized I'd make a mistake. I spent years waiting for you to kill me and then I realized I had a second chance and turned my life around. I got married. I've got kids of my own. I'd never— I'd never do what I did. Not anymore."

A part of Will regrets bringing Slade at all. Even if it's not _his_ Joey, it would have been so much easier to kill Wade in secret and tell Bruce and Slade he'd left. Slade never would have had to know. It feels like he's made a mistake involving Slade, because now he's suffering, knowing the truth about what happened with Joseph.

There's no solution that will make him happy. Killing Wade will leave a mess behind they'll have to clean up. It'll upset Bruce. _Not_ killing Wade will leave Slade with the simple fact that one of the people responsible for his son's death is still alive.

Bruce will be happy, but Slade won't.

Will expects Slade to struggle with it, but to his _immense_ surprise he doesn't. There's a moment of anger, a sharp edge that Will so rarely gets to see in Slade, and then it's gone, hidden behind a perfect, controlled veneer. Slade's feeling things, but he's not letting them show. He's keeping them in check in a way that Will isn't sure he'd even be able to.

"You should be thankful for your kids, Wade, because they're the reason you're going to walk away from this." Slade doesn't expand, letting Wade fill in the blanks for himself. If he was alone, he'd be dead, but Slade isn't willing to hurt them.

Not then, anyway. Years ago he would have without hesitation, but right _then?_

Will feels like a gulf's just opened up between them, because in Slade's position he wouldn't even hesitate.

Are they really that different?

"Don't think you're getting off easily, though, Wade. You're going to be the best fucking father on the planet. In fact, we're going to go _right now,_ and I'll meet my little nieces and nephews, and if I find out you've been a shitty father..."

Slade claps his hand onto Wade's shoulder, putting enough force to make Wade actually stumble in place.

"Well, you don't want to find out what happens then, do you Wade?"

Wade doesn't want to find out.

Will says nothing. He feels strangely outside himself, separate from the situation. It doesn't feel like he's even really _there,_ and even when Bruce presses in close he finds himself lost in his own head. He feels like he doesn't even _know_ Slade, their actions (or what they'd have done, anyway) wildly at odds.

He only registers when Bruce kisses his forehead, wrapping his arms around Will's shoulders and pulling him against Bruce's chest. The feeling of him—of how solid he is, how _there_ —brings Will back to himself in bits and pieces, the toxic swirl of being so _wrong_ and Joseph being dead and how in this world it wasn't even _slightly_ Slade's fault...

"Stay with me, Will." Bruce's voice is soft, and he asks nothing else of Will as he guides him back to the car and into the passenger seat.

Will doesn't say a word the rest of the trip.


	3. Chapter 3

The road trip isn't much of one. Normal road trips, in Will's opinion, involve a lot of stops and sightseeing. Instead, the three of them swap off who's driving and make a beeline straight for the hotel. The only stops they make are for food, gas, or the bathroom, and whoever isn't driving tends to just sleep.

There's not much talking, and by the time they get to the resort, Will is _extremely_ agitated.

It's hard not to be. He's had sixteen or so hours of nonstop driving with just his own head. Sixteen hours of _thinking._

The room is large, plush, and multiple rooms. It's a whole _suite,_ and while technically Will has a separate room that's _in theory_ for him. the bed in Bruce and Slade's room is more than large enough for the three of them, and Will deposits himself into it before even bothering to unpack anything.

"How long are we here?"

"Two nights," Slade says as Bruce unpacks his bag.

"There's a spa, and I'm getting the full massage package, if either of you are interested."

Will grunts, lying face down into the very, very soft pillow. He's not sure he's prepared for that. He's not sure he prepared for leaving the room.

"I'm going to call Murillo," he mumbles into the pillow.

"What?"

"He said he's going to call Murillo," Slade clarifies for Bruce, before turning his attention to Will. "Now? Or just at some point."

"Now, before I changed my mind."

"It's seven at night," Bruce points out. "She's probably having dinner."

Will grunts, ignores Bruce, and rolls over, blindly groping for his phone. He calls Murillo on auto-pilot, not even looking at the screen. A part of him is hoping she isn't going to pick up. Then he'll have an excuse. He'll be able to say he tried, and that's it.

Of course that means she picks up on the first ring.

"It's been a while, Wilson," she says with a laugh in her voice. "I assume something happened to make you call me."

"Yes— No. Something came up, but I handled it myself. I'm calling because I convinced myself like a fucking idiot that maybe I should call you and do therapy."

"You mean having regular therapy again."

Will grunts into the phone, wondering why he ever thought it was a good idea to call her. She's always been a pain in the ass.

"Well, lucky for you, I've got space in my schedule. Thursday at ten? Did you want my office, or would you prefer to be at the manor?"

"Manor." He doesn't ask Bruce if it's alright. The manor is his home as much as it is anyone else's, and he knows he'll be a hell of a lot more relaxed in a place that he _knows_ is secure. Even if he doesn't think that Murillo would record the session, that doesn't mean someone _else_ wouldn't be willing to do so. If someone found out he was getting therapy in an insecure building, someone else could exploit that.

He can't risk that. Not with what she already knows, and what else she'll learn before long.

"Thursday, then. And relax. Enjoy the next few days."

"Doctor's orders," Will mutters. "I'll see you then."

He lets his phone fall onto the bed with a sigh, and when he looks up, Slade and Bruce are there, watching him.

"Weren't you going to go..." Will waves a hand generally. "Get a massage, or something."

"Tomorrow," Slade says.

"We were going to stay here with you," Bruce says at almost the exact same time.

Will pauses, and then makes a show of stretching out on the bed, making room for the two of them to join him.

They do, and for the second night he finds himself in the middle, the attention of Bruce and Slade focused almost entirely on him. It feels good to have their attention, to be focused on with no distractions. Of course, he's expecting things to _escalate,_ and he's confused when they don't.

Instead, he stays sandwiched between them, his eyes drifting half closed despite himself.

"...Are we not going to fuck?" He mumbles, half to himself, and Slade lets out a laugh.

"We can go without fucking, for once," he insists, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Will's neck. "Sometimes I think just being held can be even better."

 _"Dramatic,"_ Will mumbles, but he doesn't _actually_ disagree. There's something nice and just fundamentally _good_ about being held by the two of them. Of there being no crises or disasters to pull them away. He loves the kids—misses them, too—but right then he wants it just to be about the three of them.

Just them and no one else, like they're alone in the world.

"I love you," Bruce says, and there's no question who he's saying it to right then. Will's heart skips a beat, and he buries his face against Bruce's shoulder, letting Bruce wrap his arms around him.

"I love you too," Slade says, and wraps his arms around the both of them.

Will needs to say it. He needs to say it back, to tell them that he loves them to. He knows he does. Just thinking about them makes his heart race. Just seeing them brings him joy.

Just hearing that they care makes everything worth it.

But he can't make himself say it. There's a sense of dread with it, a feeling that if he does say it—if he makes it _real_ —that it will somehow go wrong. That saying the words _I love you_ will somehow make it end.

As long as he never says it, it stays as it is—perfect and good.

And until he can move past that, he needs to trust that they know he cares for them, even if he can't say it.

He buries his face and tries not to think about what could be if they _don't._ Neither questions his lack of response, instead showering him in love and attention, so that there's no question in his mind whether or not they're angry.

"Maybe we should stay a week here," he mumbles, because he wants to encapsulate that feeling forever, just the three of them.

"Can't," Bruce says, leaning up to kiss his forehead. "Dick wants to bring his date over to meet the family on Tuesday, and you have therapy on Thursday."

Will groans. It's not like he'd forgotten, but he'd have been happier without the reminder.

"Do we know anything about this date?" Slade asks over his shoulder.

"Dick's kept mum. Probably trying to isolate them from the family's chaos."

"A smart plan," Will snorts. "I'll do my best not to scare them off."

Bruce looks distinctly unimpressed by the promise, and Will finds himself smiling at the idea of a quaint family dinner. Meeting Dick's long out of sight date.

Being, if nothing else, a happy family together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I plan to blackmail some NSFW content out of OkayAristotle for the next day, so look forward to that. 😉
> 
> I've recently adopted a new pet, so I've been fairly busy and my update speed hasn't been the best. I do still plan to finish my current WIPS - this was just a distraction on the side that I wanted to get out.


End file.
